Zutarian Sanctuary
by dark twilight mistress
Summary: A collection of Zutara drabbles, courtesy of moi! New chapter sorry if it's short : A kiss like no other.
1. Chapter 1

"Drink hearty, everyone!" Iroh called to the crowd of five teenagers. Aang snatched up his earthenware cup out of Iroh's hands and peered at the liquid inside. His face immediately became downcast.

"Gee, thanks Iroh," the bald monk muttered, feigning eagerness, and he slumped away dejectedly.

Katara frowned, sauntered over to the fireplace, and picked up two cups of the drink. She handed off a cup to Toph, and they both exchanged knowing looks. 

"Uggh... chocolatl again!" they both moaned. Sighing deeply, Katara crossed over to the edge of the clearing to take a seat on her favorite rock.

"Chocolatl is the new hip drink!" Katara pouted, mimicking Iroh. "Yeah, maybe for people who haven't been drinking it three times a day." She peered at the thick, brown, warm liquid inside. Trying to mask a disgusted face, she brought the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip. "Bleccch!" Katara hastily spat out the chocolatl. "I'm so sick of chocolatl."

"Don't count on getting anything different."

Katara whirled around to face the speaker. A tall, pale teenager, with shaggy black hair leaned against Appa's swelled stomach, his arms crossed, and his face bearing a sour look. His brow furrowed to partially conceal two piercing amber eyes, and the bright red scar on his eye crinkled slightly.

Zuko, she thought loathingly.

He lazily ambled over to her, then plopped down beside her on the rock. She scooted away; he almost sighed in exasperation, but something told him not to. 

"Whenever Iroh has an obsession, he sticks to it like glue," Zuko explained. Katara snorted slightly and somehow managed to turn it into a sneeze and a cough. "He's a very passionate man."

Just like you, Zuko? Katara wondered. 

"Iroh won't be giving up chocolatl just yet. He'll force it on you until you become used to it. Eventually it'll just become a part of your life, and then, who knows? Maybe you'll find another side of chocolatl. Something you haven't seen before."

Katara gave a harsh laugh. "What's that supposed to—"

But before she could finish, Katara noticed something different about Zuko. For a fleeting moment, his eyes looked—hopeful. Almost to the point of pleading. 

_Who knows? Maybe you'll find another side of chocolatl. Something you haven't seen before. _And suddenly, she understood.

Hot tears pooled quickly in her eyes, and she turned away from Zuko, trying to hide them from view. She breathed in sharply. "Maybe I've had enough of chocolatl," she whimpered softly. 

"What don't you like about it?" Zuko whispered.

Katara stared at her cup of milky brown liquid. "It's just so—so—bitter!" she yelled furiously. In a rage, she slammed her cup to the forest floor; it only cracked slightly. She turned on her heels and ran through the forest, her tears flowing freely now. She darted past trees and bushes; she was really crying now. Katara could hear the crunching and snapping of twigs from behind her. Zuko was following her, and he was catching up fast.

Katara tore through the forest, scrambling over the tree roots. She could feel Zuko's presence, but she kept pushing herself.

Until her foot got caught underneath a tree root.

"Aaah!" Katara cried out. She stumbled and was thrown right on her hands. A searing pain shot through her left ankle and she winced, moaning slightly. Katara tried to shake it free, but it only made the pain worse. She broke down, the tears streaming down her cheeks, gasping sobs escaping from her throat.

Zuko stared at the poor girl. Her hair had come loose from its normal bun and braid and now hung in loose waves around her dark shoulders. Her blue robes were torn and tattered. She craned her neck up to look at him. Her sapphire eyes looked like crystalline shards; they were so beautiful.

Katara put her head back down. She was so ashamed of herself.

_Please, Spirits, get me out of here, _Katara prayed silently. _I ask for nothing more._

Suddenly she felt herself elevating into the air. Her eyes flew open, only to stare up at Zuko; he had scooped her up into his toned arms and was carrying Katara bridal style. Katara's face turned an unheard-of shade of red. Zuko glanced at her cherry-red face and cradled her head with his hand.

He continued to carry her in his arms as they trudged through the forest. Finally the pair of them reached the edge of the forest and came to a towering cliff. Zuko gently laid Katara down on the ground and placed his hand cautiously on Katara's swollen ankle. She winced in pain.

"It's nothing," she stammered, struggling through the throbbing pain.

Zuko ignored her; he laced his spindly fingers around her ankle and carefully clamped his hands. Delicious warmth spread all over Katara's sore ankle.

"Is chocolatl only bitter?" Zuko whispered softly.

Katara bit her lower lip and looked away. "No," she answered. Zuko kneaded Katara's ankle a bit more.

"Well, tell me more about what you think of chocolatl."

Katara pulled herself a little closer to Zuko, and hugged her knees tightly. "It starts off bland, then it seems to almost, I dunno, tempt you, into thinking that the drink will be sweet, and then BAM! It gets all bitter and horrible again." She placed her chin on her knees. "I wish it would be consistent."

Zuko gently let go of Katara's ankle and gazed at her, a hard, blazing look in his eyes. Katara felt her stomach twist into knots, and a hot blush crept up her cheeks.

"Maybe," Zuko started, "well, maybe the chocolatl is just hiding its real flavor because you're used to the bitterness. You just need to trust."

"I can't trust!" Katara shouted. Her entire body tensed up as she clenched her eyes shut. "I can't," she stuttered. "I'm not strong enough."

Zuko wrapped an arm around Katara, gently hoisting her to her feet. "Yes you are," he murmured softly.

"But I—"

"Katara, I think you should give chocolatl another chance. Let the flavor stay within your mouth so you can taste all the colors that it's hiding from you."

"But—"

"Just trust it!" Zuko blurted out, grabbing her forearms tightly. Katara's sapphire eyes widened in fear. Zuko gently let go of her. He reached down, picked up his earthenware cup of chocolatl, and drank the whole cup of brown liquid in one gulp. He wiped the froth off his lips and came back to Katara. He grasped her shoulders firmly and stared hard at her.

"Can you trust me?" he pleaded. Katara was shocked; she could only emit a faint squeak. Zuko's arms gently folded around the water princess and pulled her in closer. Then, unexpectedly, before Katara even had time to protest, his mouth met hers gently in a sweet, soft kiss. He pulled away from her, placing his fingers on her mouth in a caressing manner. Katara melted inside. She lifted Zuko's hand off and flattened her palm against his. Their hands matched completely. 

"Okay," Katara whispered.

The End

© dark twilight mistress 2007, all rights reserved. 


	2. Let Me Help You

Zuko, exhausted from a day of training the young Avatar (that boy was far too enthusiastic for his own good), hobbled down the central hall of the Western Air Temple dormitories. Wincing slightly, he rubbed the soreness from his legs before turning to go to his room. He was just about to open the door when—

Thwack! Something soft and creamy white plopped onto his head. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he slipped the offending object off his head and held it between pinched fingers at arms length. Two pink spots appeared on his cheeks when he realized what said object was.

He was holding a pair of Katara's underwear. 

Shuddering inwardly at the thought of what she would do to him if she found him holding a pair of her ahem undergarments, he started off across the hall to Katara's dorm room. There was no way he was going to get in trouble with her again. _Not this time, _he thought to himself. Before he could knock on her door, he could hear a frustrated shriek emitted from the room. He paused momentarily, then, checking to make sure no one was looking, he pressed his ear to the door. 

He could hear Katara inside, and it sounded as though she was dashing about the room, stopping temporarily, only to hear another angered cry or the slam of a drawer. He gulped nervously to himself; she seemed extremely agitated. _Just ask her! _he chided himself. Breathing deeply, he turned the knob and eased the door open.

Katara, apparently worried and confused, tore around her room, scrambling over heaps and heaps of clothing. She wrestled open a few more drawers, tossed out their contents, furiously slammed the drawers shut, and ran around her room again. Falling to her knees, she immediately began digging through the piles of crumpled clothing, muttering darkly to herself.

Dodging assorted robes, navy blue pants, and sashes, Zuko made his way to Katara and asked, "What are you looking for?"

Her face brightened considerably. "Oh, Sokka, thanks for coming! I really need my—" she stopped talking abruptly when she noticed who it was that had walked in the room. "Oh, it's you," she sneered irritably, lips curling into a grimace, as Zuko stared at the floor and scratched his head. She whirled away from him and continued to sort through her clothes, this time in a more dignified manner. "Why are you here?" she asked coldly.

Slightly annoyed by her tone of voice, he cleared his throat and replied, "I came in here to help you."

"Well, you've wasted your time, because I don't need your help," she barked stubbornly. She ignored him as she dug through her clothes. Humiliated, Zuko stormed past Katara and tried to help her pick up clothes. Katara, angry and frustrated, slapped Zuko's hand away. His insides boiled with rage.

"Why won't you let me help you?" he yelled.

"Because I don't need your help!" she screamed angrily, stomping her foot. "I don't need your help, I don't want your help, I don't NEED you," she raged, enunciating the last part very clearly. When he tried to retaliate, she flapped her hands and sighed irritably. "Just go, Zuko." The icy look in her cold sapphire eyes was enough to murder any man on the spot. Zuko left the room in a huff, muttering, "Didn't need to tell me twice." He slammed the door shut, pacing furiously outside. _A dip in the pool would help me cool off,_ he thought to himself. Yes, that's exactly what he would do. He grabbed a towel off one of the racks in the wash room and headed for the pool.

"Aaaaah," Zuko sighed deeply as he slid into the pool, allowing the luxurious chilled water to spread over his sore arms and legs. His mind wandered shamelessly as he sunk further and further into oblivion. He gently eased himself onto his legs, aligning himself with the surface of the water, then pushed off the wall of the pool. He swam the length of the pool a few times, his powerful arms striking the water with amazing precision.

Imagine. His elemental opposite being his biggest source of comfort.

As he finished his last length of the pool, something caught his eye. He looked a little closer. It was shiny, sparkling in the gleam of the sunlight. Taking a deep breath, he gracefully dove under the water, kicking toward the bottom of the pool. He scooped the object into his hand, and then paddled up to the surface. He swam over to the edge of the pool and gazed at the object cradled in his hands, stifling a gasp.

It was Katara's necklace, in all its beauty and glory. And he was the one who had found it. 

Zuko found himself face to face with a dilemma. _What should I do? Should I go back and give it to her directly? No, she'll only accuse me of stealing it. Should I get Sokka or the Avatar to give it to her? But then she'll never learn to trust me!_ After considering this for a little while longer, he hoisted himself out of the pool, gently placing the necklace in the pocket of his pants. He dried himself off, and then headed back to his dorm room.

Once inside, he crossed the room to his writing desk. He pulled open the drawer and took out a brush, ink, and a roll of parchment. After choosing his words carefully, he wrote the following:

_Katara, I understand that the two of us are having difficulties getting along. But I really want you to trust me. Please, trust me when I say that I want to be your friend. _

_A Hopeful Friend_

_P.S. I think this belongs to you._

He clipped the necklace to the note and, very quietly, slunk across the hallway to Katara's dorm, easing the door open. She was not inside. He carefully placed the note on her desk, and left the room.

Zuko, lying on his bed, leaned against the headboard, gazing at a portrait of his uncle Iroh. He traced the outline of the image on the parchment, running his finger along his cheeks, his hair, his chin, trying to remember. Hot tears pooled into Zuko's eyes. He wiped them away furiously. He was a man; he did not cry.

A slight clicking noise caused him to shoot his head up. He turned to his bedroom door, only to find Katara standing in the doorway. Her shoulders were hunched and tense, and she wouldn't look Zuko in the eye. He made his way slowly towards her before she spoke, "I found your note on my desk." Zuko halted. He had imagined she would come to find him, but he really didn't know what to say. 

She hesitantly lifted her head to face him, placing a hand to her neck. He immediately noticed that the necklace was in its proper place, glinting and shining even in the faint glow of candlelight. Zuko breathed a sigh of relief, a light smile crossing his face. As though approaching a fierce animal, she cautiously walked to him and looked him, this time, right in the eye. Her gaze was still as fierce as it had been when she was angry with him, but there was a certain warmth there which hadn't been there before. She lightly reached out and, with one hand, touched his cheek. A slight blush crept up Zuko's cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, backing away and walking toward the door. Before she left the room, she turned to face him and she said, "I do need your help, Zuko."


	3. Chapter 3

When she kissed Sokka,

When she kissed Sokka, she felt like the older sibling, always being there for him in his time of need, when his eyes yearned to be comforted.

When she kissed Aang, she felt like the mother, praising him for anything he accomplished, no matter the size, protecting him from any apparent danger.

When she kissed Haru, she felt like the best friend, listening to any problems he had with concern, ready to hold his hand should he need it.

When she kissed Jet, she felt like the bad girl, trespassing into unknown territory, going above and beyond the boundaries, pushing everything just a little too far.

But when she kissed Zuko, she felt like a passionate lover as she flung her arms round his neck, clutching him tightly, as though she would collapse without his support. It was as though a dormant volcano within her had erupted, spewing out steaming, fiery hot love as he kissed her back, running his hands up and down the small of her back. They lay together, limbs intertwined, as they reached into each others souls in the throes of their compassion and love.

Katara had never known a kiss quite like Zuko's.


End file.
